


Of Partners and Pain Meds

by SabbyStarlight



Series: Sleepy Boys [3]
Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: A little bit of hurt, And a whole lot of comfort, Banter, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Slight Hurt Jack, Slight Hurt Mac
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:27:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27678751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SabbyStarlight/pseuds/SabbyStarlight
Summary: An almost late entry for The MacGyver Fluff Challenge!Another mission gone wrong leaves our boys a little banged up.  And they are both too stubborn for their own good.
Series: Sleepy Boys [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1735585
Comments: 9
Kudos: 52





	Of Partners and Pain Meds

It was never, in Jack's experience, a good thing to show up at Mac's house and find it quiet. No mess or leftovers from breakfast scattered throughout the kitchen, no fire in the pit on the deck, no collection of metal doodads strewn across the living room in what Mac promised was organized chaos, though nobody but himself could see how. But the Jeep was in the garage and the door had been locked, security system untripped, when Jack had let himself in and Mac had busted knee that would have prevented even him, as stubborn as he was, from going on a run.

"Mac?" He called, doing one final sweep to make sure the kid hadn't fallen asleep mid-project in some weird location, before heading down the hall. "Where you at, hoss?"

"In here," Mac's voice answered from behind his closed bedroom door.

"What are you doin' still in bed?" Jack asked, teasing to mask the relief in his voice at finding Mac safe and sound. "It's, well I'd tell you what time it is exactly, but I took my watch off. Kept getting caught on this damn sling," He raised the elbow of his injured arm, wincing, to prove his point. "But it's way past when you'd usually be up."

"Honestly?" Mac shrugged, "At the risk of you freaking out on me for admitting it? Getting out of bed hurts."

"That knee givin' you hell, huh?" Jack frowned in sympathy.

"Probably no more than that shoulder of yours is giving you," Mac's eyes narrowed in thought as he began to question his partner's presence in his house and how he got there to begin with. "Did you drive yourself here? With that arm?"

"No," Jack insisted before breaking into a grin. "I drove here with the other one."

"Jack-"

"Calm down, kid. There are way more dangerous people on the LA freeways right now than me driving one-handed," Jack dropped into the armchair in the corner of the room. "Hell, I could probably out drive some of 'em with both hands tied behind my back."

"Do not take that as a personal challenge," Mac warned, biting back a smile and thinking that the next time Jack was asked to run a tactical driving course for new Phoenix recruits would be an interesting one. "And don't change the subject. You know you're not supposed to be driving."

"And you know I hate people tellin' me what I can and can't do," Jack countered back. " 'Sides, I've gone a full twenty-four hours without poppin' one of those pain pills they sent us both home with, I'm allowed to be behind the wheel. And I had to come check in on you. Good thing I did, too, seein' as how you're still piled up in bed, hurting too bad to move."

Mac had perfected a dramatic eye roll long before he ever met Jack, but had never had to use it as much as he did once they started working together. "I'm fine. Said I was still in bed, not that I hadn't been out of it all day." He sent a pointed look at the crutches balancing against his nightstand and the half-eaten granola bar balanced on top of the nearly empty glass of orange juice that had been shoved among the clutter.

"Oh," Jack nodded slowly. "Then I guess I don't have to be as worried then. Though that's not much of a breakfast, not with those pain meds. Probably should eat some more. Bathroom floor's not gonna feel too good on that bum knee of yours when you're curled over the toilet bowl bringin' those measly few bites right back up."

"Can't make me sick if I don't take them," Mac muttered under his breath, tensing in anticipation of a lecture when he realized the mistake he had just made.

"Well, no wonder you're hurting, then!" Jack scolded, pushing himself up out of the chair and shuffling through the piles of random things on Mac's nightstand until he found the little prescription bottle buried beneath what appeared to be the filter from a vacuum cleaner. A less experienced Jack, earlier in their friendship, would have made the mistake of asking Mac why he had it, and beside his bed no less, when there wasn't an inch of flooring in his entire house that wasn't hardwood or tile. Instead, having learned better than to do such a thing long ago, Jack simply ignored it. He would remember it was there though, in case he needed to bring Mac out of his head later by casually mentioning the spare piece he had found for the flux capacitor Mac swore he wasn't building in his spare time. "I was just givin' you a hard time earlier, 'bout not eatin' enough," Jack said as he squinted at the count number printed on the bottle and then rattled it as if he could tell how many pills were missing by the sound alone. "But I can go grab you something else if you want to have a little more on deck before you take these."

"Who says I'm taking them?" Mac argued. For someone who had spent his entire adult life following orders, he sure was fond of questioning them.

"Jack did," Jack answered smoothly. "And if you want to give him a hard time about it he'll just keep up the whole talking in third person thing he knows you hate."

Mac's eyes flashed in annoyance for a moment before the fight drained out of him. "It isn't that bad, Jack. I don't need them."

"Says who?"

"Says the only person who actually has access to my pain receptors?" Mac crossed his arms defiantly, a move that would have been almost intimidating if he hadn't been laying in bed. "Besides, you're hurting too."

"No, now, we ain't talkin' about me..."

"Why not?" Mac had found a footing in the argument and wasn't about to back down. "You're hurting. I can tell," He continued fervently at Jack's dubious look and raised eyebrow. "I can. I can tell when you're hurting just as well as you can when I am."

Jack snapped his fingers, gloating. "Ah, there it is! You just admitted it, kid. You're hurting, said so yourself. Now take the meds."

"That's not what I said," Mac frowned as he replayed his words over in his mind. "Not exactly. But if you wanna play that game? Fine," He shrugged. "I'll take them if you do."

Jack paused for a moment, his plan backfiring. "And why would I agree to that?"

"Because you're hurting too and you want to set a good example for your partner," Mac answered easily. "And you'd never ask me to do something you wouldn't do yourself. Right?"

"Now that's a low blow and you know it," Jack ignored the sting Mac's accusation left behind, knowing he hadn't actually meant anything by it. "It ain't like I'm asking you to put yourself at risk to keep me safe. I'm asking you to take the meds the doctors sent home when you."

"And I will. When you take yours."

"Don't got 'em with me."

"It sure seems like that bottle has plenty in it to spare."

Jack sighed, setting down on Mac's bed, careful not to nudge Mac's injured leg off of the pillows it was propped up on. "You know I hate takin' those things. Makes me all foggy and off my game."

"Unless you haven't noticed, we aren't exactly on duty right now."

"My brain don't go out of protective mode any easier than yours goes out of genius mode," Jack rolled the bottle in his hand. "Just ‘cause I know you're safe and sound don't mean I'm not still hardwired to protect you."

"Then you should know that I hate taking those meds just as much as you do," Mac reminded him gently. "They knock me out and make it impossible to wake myself up from whatever nightmare my mind cooks up."

Jack nodded slowly. It was true. More times than he could count he had found himself with the arduous task of trying to drag Mac out of his dreams when they took a dark turn. The drugs that were actually strong enough to help with the pain left him struggling to wake once they had pulled him under. It could be done, after a little work on Jack's end, but it wasn't pretty and it wasn't something that either of them enjoyed. It didn't mean that he wouldn't do it, though. "Take 'em," Jack gently tossed the bottle of pills to Mac, hitting him in the chest before Mac reached out and caught them. "And I'll stick around in case you need me."

Mac defiantly tossed the bottle back, frowning in disappointment at his partner's reflexes, even injured, as he caught it easily, even without the use of his dominant hand. "I'll take them if you do."

"But if I take them I might fall asleep too. And then who's gonna be around to fight off those nightmares for you when they come a-knocking?"

"Then I guess neither of us are taking them," Mac shrugged.

"That's not a plan," Jack argued. "That's... that's mutually assured destruction."

"Your call."

"You're hurting, kid," Jack sighed. "Don't be too stubborn to take something to help."

"So are you. All you have to do is push aside your pride and admit it," Mac countered, not giving in. "We either spend the day laying around, both of us being miserable or we each take a couple of those," He nodded to the pill bottle still in Jack's hand. "and get a break from it."

"That's the way you wanna play this?" Jack huffed. "Fine." It was a bit of a struggle to twist the safety cap off the bottle in his hand without using the arm secured in the sling, but he managed, too stubborn to ask Mac for help, and shook two pills into his palm, reaching them to Mac. "Take 'em."

Mac took the offered pills with a sigh. He hadn't been planning on Jack actually following through with his threat. "You too," He nodded to the open bottle still in Jack's hand.

"Yeah, yeah," Jack shook two more pills into his hand before twisting the lid back on the bottle. "I know. Though in my defense, when I agreed to this I didn't think you'd go for it."

"Same here," Mac admitted with a grin. "We doing this?"

"I'm not letting you lay here hurting," Jack said, tossing back the pills, washing them down with a swig of the tepid orange juice Mac had never finished. "Nasty," he grimaced, face twisting in disgust. "You Cali boys and your pulp. Juice should not be hairy, kid. Hang tight, I'll bring you something other than that to take yours with."

"It's fine," Mac laughed, sitting up with a wince and reaching for the glass. "I think after all these years I'm past having to worry about your germs. And you better not let Boze hear you complaining about this, he spent like, half an hour fighting with the juicer before leaving for work this morning."

"And what had you done to it to cause him so much trouble?" Jack asked with a knowing eyebrow raised.

"Nothing," Mac protested, holding up his hands in innocence. "This time."

"Yeah, alright," Jack smiled. "Guess I'll take your word for it. Scootch over." He carefully began readjusting the pillows Mac had propped beneath his knee, pulling them closer to the side of the bed.

"What are you doing?" Mac frowned, shifting to keep up as Jack nudged him over.

"Makin' room," Jack answered simply. "It's your stubbornness that got us into this, makin' me take those meds that'll knock me on my ass here in about twenty minutes. Least you can do is let me crash somewhere comfy."

"And it has to be in my bed?" Mac protested even as he flipped back the sheets on the far side of the bed.

"Damn right it does," Jack nodded, crossing the room to draw the curtains closed before climbing into the space Mac had made for him. "It's the least you can do since this is your fault after all."

"I'm not really sure how any of this is my fault," Mac said with a soft laugh. "But fine, whatever you say."

"I'm not going to hurt you, right?" Jack asked, stopping halfway into the bed, freezing in place to try and prevent jarring Mac's leg. "That knee's gonna be okay sharin’?"

Mac smiled. "It's fine. There's just as much a chance that I'll hurt your shoulder."

"Nah, you won't," Jack assured as he carefully laid down. "What are you doin' still awake, anyway? Thought you said those meds were going to knock you out? And yet here you are, wide awake, arguin' with every word I say."

"I'm not arguing over every word."

"See? Right there. You did it again," Jack couldn't help but add in a little more teasing before the light-hearted tone dropped out of his voice. "You can go to sleep, buddy. I'll wake you up if the nightmares come callin'." 

"Not sure how you're gonna do that if you're asleep too." 

That huffed admission left Jack questioning every decision he had made in the past few minutes. Had that been the real reason Mac had put up such a fight? Maybe he shouldn't have taken the meds too, despite the way his shoulder was aching. 

"Stop overthinking things," Mac interrupted Jack's, apparently, not-so-quiet inner doubt spiral. "That's my job." 

Jack smiled. "You're supposed to be sleepin'." 

"So are you." 

"True," Jack nodded slowly. "Alright, yeah. Good night. Can I still tell you good night if it's the middle of the day?" 

"Go to sleep, Jack." 

Despite the resistance from both of them, they were asleep within minutes and were still there when Bozer arrived, using his lunch break as a chance to rush home and check on Mac. He didn't have to stay long, one look into the peaceful stillness of his roommate's bedroom, finding him fast asleep, tucked close to Jack's side, was all Bozer needed to let go of the worry he had been harboring. They would be fine, both of them. They had each other, and that was more than enough.


End file.
